Serendipity
by BlairScript
Summary: Everyone has their breaking point. Most often, one reaches it with no warning. Bella never expected that good things could come from bad. She learned that sometimes the best way out is through. Edward learned that sometimes what you get is not what was expected and first impressions are, most often, wrong. M for abuse and sexual content. Angst. UST. Loves reviews.
1. Forbearance

**Warnings: Abuse of various sorts. Sexual content. You get the idea.**

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_Forbearance (n): _the quality of someone who is patient and able to deal with a difficult person or situation without becoming angry

* * *

My cellphone buzzed on the floor next to me, staccato vibrations that I could feel in my bones. Alice's dark eyes flickered up at me, glaring. Her hand paused from where she was painting my nails, and a drop of deep blue polish threatened to drip down off of the brush and onto my cuticle.

"Don't you _dare_ answer that text."

"It's just James checking in. If I text him back he'll leave us alone."

"For ten minutes, until he thinks he needs to '_check in_' again."

There was a moment of silence where we both stared at each other. Rosalie stopped flipping her magazine from across the room, pausing to watch us in our stand-off.

"Jesus, Alice, just let her answer the text." Alice huffed, throwing up her hands in exasperation.

"Thanks, Rose," I said picking up my phone as delicately as I could. It was the third time Alice had stopped painting so that I could answer James. To give her credit, she had been very patient with me the first two times, taking extra time to dip the polish's wand back into the tiny glass bottle, wiping the excess off on the edges, pretending like she would have needed to pause anyway, whether I'd gotten a text or not. But if there was one thing I had learned, it was that no one had neverending patience. It was more like a non-renewable resource.

"Fine. Answer it." Alice twisted the polish bottle closed and tossed it back into the basket with the dozens of others she had procured over the years. She went over to where Rosalie was lounging on the bed and curled up to read over her shoulder. I slid open the screen of my phone.

_(1) New Message_

I pressed the button to open it and sat it aside while it loaded. Alice's house was out in the middle of nowhere, and considering that we lived in the middle of Nowhere, Washington, that was a feat. While I loved the scenic views, I hated the shitty service. That was one of the reasons James didn't let me visit Alice as often as I wanted to. With the bad service, sometimes I didn't get his texts until Alice or Rose was driving me back into town. He liked me to be closer to him, places where I didn't have an excuse to answer his texts a little late, places where he could stop by and see me.

The message finally loaded.

_6/19/2014 5:52 P.M._

_From: James _

_To: Bella_

_What are you doing?_

_From: Bella_

_To: James_

_Alice is doing my nails_

I typed back a response and waited to make sure it sent before tucking the phone into my pocket. I stood up and hovered awkwardly at the edge of Alice's bed, letting one of my hands run up the glossy wood of the nearest post. Her eyes stayed strictly on the magazine as if she couldn't see me standing there. I took a deep breath, holding it in my lungs until it burned.

"Any room up there for me?" I asked.

Both of their eyes looked up at me. Rosalie smiled and began to scoot closer to Alice. One of her hands patted the pillow beside her.

"For your skinny ass, I'm sure we can make a little room."

We all curled up together to read an article about what mascara is best to wear at the beach during the summer. It didn't matter that Forks was miles away from any beach, _any _warm_ beach_, my mind amended as I remembered the icy water and gritty sand at La Push. Looking at the sunkissed skin and lip-glossed smiles of the girls in Cosmo was as close as we could get, and it was nice to dream about.

My phone buzzed. I heard Alice's sigh from the other sign of Rosalie while I maneuvered my phone out of my pocket.

_(1) New Message_

_6/19/2014 6:01 P.M._

_From: James_

_To: Bella_

_What color? None of that glittery bullshit like last time_

Mid-response, my phone buzzed again.

_What's Rose wearing tonight? _

My face burned. Against my will, my eyes trailed up and down Rosalie's long legs and smooth skin in the shorts and tank-top she had borrowed off of Alice as soon as we got out of the cold, misty Forks weather and into the Cullen's AC-oasis. My fingers felt numbed as I typed back.

_From: Bella_

_To: James_

_Blue polish. Sweats and a t-shirt._

There was a knock on the door.

"It's open," Alice called out. Mrs. Cullen's face appeared in the doorway, a smile already curling at her lips. Esme was easily the most beautiful older woman I had ever seen. Her hair was a rich caramel that she usually kept swept up into an effortless bun. Today, it was down making waves around her shoulders, and even if it was just beginning to be threaded through with gray hairs, her green eyes were bright and ageless.

"Hello girls."

"Hi Mrs. Cullen," I mumbled, taking my eyes off of her classic beauty and back to the make-up tips on the page. The words were blurry to me, but I pretended to read anyway.

"It's Esme to you, Bella dear. Alice, have you heard from your brother?"

Alice sat up, tucking her legs underneath her. "He was at school."

"I know, I already called to check. Did he say where he was going after school?"

Alice shook her head. I cleared my throat, and when everyone's eyes turned to look at me, my face flushed red.

"Um, Mrs. Cullen, Esme, I heard something about a party over at the Whitlock's place tonight. That's where James is."

"Whitlock. Is that-"

"Whitlock, as in Jasper Whitlock," Alice chimed. Her face was twisted into a look of innocence, but judging by the sly smile on Mrs. Cullen's face, the hitch in Alice's voice hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Thank you, Alice. And thank you, Bella, you were very helpful. You girls keep reading. Wait, is that one of my Cosmopolitan magazines?" Alice groaned, throwing her hands over her eyes.

"God mom, it's not like we're twelve. We're _sixteen_-"

My phone buzzed. I threw my legs off the side of the bed and turned away to open my latest text.

_(1) New Message_

6/19/2014_ 6:15 P.M. _

_From: James_

_To: Bella_

_Gross. Rose is such an ugly bitch_

I squeezed the phone, watched my knuckles turn white. I jammed my thumb against the power button and watched his message turn black. A hand touched my shoulder and it was Rosalie, her eyebrows drawn together. Her makeup was flawless, her skin-tone even and bright. She offered me a smile. Behind her, Alice was ushering out Mrs. Cullen, arms moving theatrically.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Great. Just James, he's being a little-" I fought to think of a kind word, or at least one that wasn't too honest. "-clingy tonight."

"Do you need me to run you home?"

"No," I said quickly. I held up my phone to show her it was off. "I could _really_ use some girl time."

Alice's head turned sharply, her eyes wide. She pressed her back against her closed door and rested a hand over her heart as if trying to keep it in place. "Did I just hear what I _thought_ I heard?"

I held up my half-painted fingers. "I'd look a little silly with just half a manicure."

"Yeah, well," Alice said, trying to smother her smile. "_I_ wasn't going to say it."

We resumed our position from earlier, Alice's tiny hands cradling my own, brushing the polish over my nails with the ease of someone who has had years of practice. Rose sat behind me, threading her fingers through my hair, making parts and twisting sections together. The gentle, rhythmic tugging on my scalp made my eyelids heavy. Having days like this with Alice and Rose reminded me of living in Phoenix with Renee, when we would tuck toilet paper between our toes to keep them apart while the polish dried, when we would dance around the house together with the radio turned up loud. Those were the happiest times of my life, the only really happy times I had with Renee.

"What's the deal with your brother?" Rosalie asked Alice while she was braiding. "I thought they were going to ship him off to boarding school."

Alice rolled her eyes. "You know mom. She'd never let dad send Edward somewhere where _she_ couldn't be."

The Cullens were relatively new to town. Before here, they had lived in Seattle where Edward had gotten kicked out of his old high school. They packed up and moved to Forks a year before mom sent me away to live with Charlie. They'd looked for a fresh start, somewhere where no one would know about Edward's old ways, but it wasn't long before he acquired his own reputation in the small town. He smoked in the bathrooms, cut a lot of class, but still managed to earn better grades than most of his class.

Where he was bad, Alice was the opposite. It was easy to see that they weren't related. From what I understood, Edward had been a difficult pregnancy for Mrs. Cullen. After having an emergency C-section, the doctors advised her that for her own health and any children's health, she shouldn't try to conceive. Esme had her tubes tied and looked into adoption. A few years later they found baby Alice in an orphanage in Seattle, and the rest was history. Alice was probably the only good influence on her older brother. Edward was protective and he loved Alice like they had shared the same womb.

"Esme and her heart of gold. If Edward was my son, I would have shipped him out of the country."

"Hey, it didn't turn out to be so bad. They managed to get his old biology teacher to drop the charges. I guess only _half_ of the guy's garage burned down, and they managed to salvage everything else."

"Jesus," Rose muttered, shaking her head. "If your brother killed a priest, Carlisle and Esme could probably talk the Catholic church out of pressing charges."

"Where would Edward ever encounter a priest? I can't imagine him in a church," I muttered under my breath.

"Valid point. What's that old expression? Something about whores in church?"

We all laughed, but our amusement was cut short at the sound of wheels churning up gravel in the drive. Alice screwed the cap on the nail polish and we all scrambled to her window, peaking through the sheer curtains. Edward's silver Volvo was parked crookedly, and he was sitting in the driver's seat rubbing his temple with one hand, smoking a cigarette with the other. Downstairs the front door opened, and Carlisle stepped into view, his arms crossed over his chest.

"He's _dead_. Dad's going to kill him. Look at that parking job." Alice sniffed indignantly. "You'd think it was Helen Keller that had taught him how to drive."

Edward got out of the car, shutting the Volvo's door behind him. His dark jeans hung low on his hips, his leather jacket hugged him sinfully. The dark hollows of his cheeks stood out as he took one last hit off of his cigarette before stomping it to ash in the drive. He called out to Carlisle, and the arguing began. Alice slid down on her knees and placed both hands against the window pane, gently sliding it up. Their voices were clearer, the angry tones distinct, but no words could be made out.

"Damn."

"If I asked them to, do you think they'd shout louder?"

Rosalie snorted. "No."

Alice threw the curtains aside and pulled the window open as far as it would go. "Hey! Could you guys shout a little louder? I'm having trouble eavesdropping!"

They both looked up. Edward laughed, holding up his middle finger to Alice, who gave as good as she got. Carlisle lifted a hand to his forehead, shaking his head, but underneath his arm I could see the corners of his lips twitching up into a smile. He said one last sentence to Edward, pointing towards the house. He walked past, Carlisle trailing him, until they both disappeared from our view.

"Do you think they heard me?" Alice asked us, her face serious.

There were footsteps on the stairs, and a quick knock on Alice's door.

"Who is it?" She called, closing the window. I rifled through the basket of nail polish, looking for clear polish to use as a topcoat. My hands shook too much to apply color smoothly the way Alice could, but at least no one would notice my shoddy job with the topcoat.

"Me," he said, opening the door to reveal his face. His copper hair was pulled up in all different directions, like he'd been grabbing it in frustration. _Or like he'd been having the best sex of his life. _The thought left a sour feeling in my stomach. I swallowed hard.

I'd only interacted with Edward a handful of times since I'd moved to Forks, but ever since I'd seen him, I'd been enamored with his green eyes and messy hair. I laid awake at night imagining crazy scenarios when we might be forced to interact, where I'd be tucked under his arm as we walked down the hallway. There were only two real problems.

James would never let me break up with him.

And Edward absolutely hated me.

"Hey, pixie. Thanks for the distraction. I thought Carlisle was going to tear me a new one." The moment he saw me sitting on Alice's bedroom floor, the smile on his face vanished. He gave me a black scowl, his handsome, sharp features twisted in disgust. "Alice. I thought you were better than hanging out with white trash."

Alice's face flushed red the same time mine did. I couldn't tell if she was embarrassed _about_ me or angry _for_ me. I decided that maybe I didn't want to know the answer. Her narrowed eyes didn't even flicker towards me. "Don't talk about Bella like that. Why do you have to be such a dick?"

"It's okay," I muttered. My hands were shaking so badly that it took me a few tries to get the top on the nail polish twisted closed. Alice made a noise, somewhere between a scoff and a growl.

"Get the fuck out Edward. You come up here to thank me for distracting dad and then you insult my friend? Please escort yourself to the nearest busy highway and play dead."

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning against her doorframe. The cock of his hips caused his shirt to ride up, showing a sliver of pale skin and a golden dusting of hairs, leading down towards-

"Eyes up Swan. Christ. What would James say?"

At the mention of his name, the presence of my cell phone on Alice's bed weighed heavy on my mind. How many texts had James sent? Would he be angry?

I tried to ignore the man in front of me, turning away from him to grab my phone. I pressed the power button.

"Edward, how did Carlisle and Esme's perfect genes come together to create such a little bitch of a son? You're a genetic anomaly," Rosalie said. She went back to lounging on Alice's bed, flipping through the discarded issue of Cosmo. She was the picture of spiteful boredom.

"Eat me, _Rose_."

"That's my line, _Ed_."

_(3) New Messages_

Instead of reading them, I shoved the phone into my pocket. "I have to get going. Rose, can you give me a ride home?"

"Sure."

I went to the corner of Alice's room and tugged my worn tennis shoes on, my fingers fumbling with the laces. Rose disappeared inside Alice's walk-in closet to change back into her clothes. She caught my eye, gave a dramatic look towards Edward and pretended to shove her finger down her throat. I gave her a weak smile.

"Outside, Edward." Alice dragged him out into the hall and I heard the click of her door. For a few moments, I was alone. I pressed the palms of my hands against my burning eyes and tried to swallow back my shame. Through the thin wall, I could hear every word of their conversation about me.

"She's no good, Ali. The rest of the guys on the baseball team, and James, they talk about her. Talk about things she's done. She's no good, and I don't like you hanging out with her."

"It isn't _your_ choice who I hang out with! Bella has been a great friend to me, and I don't care about where she lives, what she does in personal time, or how much money she has. I thought mom and dad raised you not to be so judgemental."

"I thought they raised you to have better judgement."

There was a moment of silence.

"Hey. Don't be pissed off. I love you, Alice. I don't care about blood, you're my sister. I don't want to see going down the wrong path. You could do great things with your life."

She gave a heavy sigh. "I know, Edward. I know."

There was silence and the shuffling. Alice's doorknob rattled and I wiped under my eyes, trying to get rid of any evidence of tears. My fingers came away dry, and I thanked God for small blessings. She looked sheepish, giving me a shaky, apologetic smile. I waved a dismissive hand at her and tried to look unbothered.

Rose exited the closet. She offered me a manicured hand and helped me up off the floor. She ignored my sweaty palms and threw her arm around my shoulder.

"See you tomorrow?" Alice whispered. I nodded. We swapped half-hearted hugs.

Outside, it was drizzling, but in Forks that was nothing new. Our shoes crunched through the gravel as we made our way to Rosalie's car. I gave the house one last glance and could make out Edward's tall, thin shape in the window of the room next to Alice's. I flipped him off, hoping he couldn't see my hands shaking, before I slipped inside the car and closed the door.

* * *

**Anyone interested?**


	2. Imbroglio

Imbroglio (n) : a misunderstanding, disagreement, etc., of a complicated or bitter nature.

* * *

Once I'm out of the Cullen's driveway and I can forget the way Edward's spiteful gaze made me feel, I can start doing damage control. I open up the three new texts. They are all from James, increasingly frustrated with my lack of replies. His last message is short and clear.

_Go home. Call me._

I bring up a new message and try to be as honest as possible. I've found that to be the easiest way to lie: stick to the truth for as long as I could and when I needed to lie, lie small.

_New Message_

_6/19/2014 6:46_

_From: Bella_

_To: James_

_Sorry I didn't reply. We were reading Cosmo and I didn't get your texts. Headed home now. Will call soon. _

"I'm sorry," Rosalie said suddenly, startling me back into the moment. Her eyes were firmly on the road and her hands clenched the wheel tightly. The radio was off. "I'm sorry about Edward. I've only known him for a bit longer than you, but he's always been that big of a jerk. Trust me."

"It's okay. Honest. I don't even really care." Judging by the look on her face, she didn't believe me. I didn't believe me, either.

_What happened to lying small, Bella?_

The rest of the drive was mostly silent. Once we made it out of the woods and back into town, Rose turned the radio on. She sang along and tapped her fingers on the wheel to the beat. I clenched my phone in my hand tightly, waiting for James to reply, but he never did. When we turned onto my street, I knew what I would see: James's car in the driveway, ignition off, waiting for me. Finally the house came into view.

The drive was empty. A whoosh of breath left my lungs and I managed to smile. I gave a quiet thanks to whatever God was watching out for me tonight. Rose pulled into the drive and turned the car off. I waited for her to unlock the doors, but when she didn't, I knew that our conversation wasn't over yet. Instead of unlocking them myself, I waited, wringing my hands together.

"You could come home with me, if you wanted. Daddy's on a business trip, and mother.. Well, she wouldn't bother us."

"I'm okay Rose. Really. But I appreciate it," I hesitated, aware that I was walking on thin ice. I needed to tread carefully. "Sometime, I might take you up on that."

She nodded and her hand reached out. The click echoed through the car as the doors were unlocked. "Anytime, babe."

I smiled at her, a real, honest smile, one that felt strange to my lips, before I stepped out into the rain. She watched me as I fumbled with my keys to get the door unlocked, watched until I was standing in the doorway ready to close the door, waving. She waved back, pulled out, and disappeared towards her house.

I closed the door and rested my back against it, listening to the silence. Charlie got off work over an hour ago, but some nights he didn't come home until late. I went to the kitchen and started foraging through the cabinets. Looking at the emptiness, I made a silent note to myself to go grocery shopping. In the end, I settled on reheating the lasagna I had made a few days ago. Other than the piece I had fed him when it was fresh, it had gone uneaten by him. I let it warm in the microwave and stared out into the street.

It was time to call James.

The phone rang and rang. I almost thought it would go to voicemail (I was holding my breath, praying it might) but he picked up on the last ring. "Hey Bells. Took you long enough."

"Hey. Sorry, the roads are slick so Rose drove really slow. How was the party?"

James jumped into long, rambling stories of the things that had happened at Jasper's house, the things so-and-so had said and who so-on-and-so-forth was dating. I tried to listen attentively and make noises at the appropriate times. I took the plate of lasagna out of the microwave and went looking for a clean fork.

"You're not even listening to me, Bella."

"What? I'm sorry, of course I'm listening, I'm just trying to make dinner-"

"You've always got some kind of excuse. I don't want to fucking hear it. I don't care."

I held my breath. "Okay. Sorry."

"Save it. I've been thinking it forever now, but hanging out with Rose and Alice isn't good for you. They're bad influences. I think you should stop seeing them."

"No, James, please, they aren't bad influences-" I took a deep breath and sat down my fork. "I'm sorry. I just haven't been totally myself today. It isn't Alice and Rosalie's faults."

"Didn't I say that I didn't want to hear your fucking excuses?" I could hear his heavy sigh. "No more Alice and Rose. I don't need you absorbing their bitchy attitudes. You have enough of an attitude problem."

"James," I whispered, pressing the heel of one palm against my aching eyes. "They're the only friends I've got. Please."

He was quiet, thinking. Thinking meant that it wasn't an outright no, thinking meant that I stood a chance, even if it was just a slight chance, even if-

"What are you going to do for _me_, Bells?" His tone was suggestive, making my stomach turn. But he was negotiating.

"What do you want?"

"I'll think about it. Eat your dinner." He hung up. I was both relieved and frightened. I sat the phone down and took some deep, steadying breaths before I picked up my fork. The lasagna was cold, but I didn't care. I ate as much as I could stomach and threw the rest away. It wasn't as if Charlie would be eating any of it.

Upstairs I stripped out of all of my clothes and turned the shower on, as hot as I could stand. While steam filled the bathroom, I stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself. There were sickly green bruises scattered over my thighs and hips, the size of James's fingertips. I poked one, searching until I found one that still hurt. When I couldn't stand to look at myself anymore, I opened the medicine cabinet to find dad's prescriptions. He had a few: one for anxiety, one for depression, one for sleep. Charlie only took them when I reminded him to. He wouldn't miss them.

I took one from each bottle and swallowed them down with water from the tap. It tasted like metal, but I didn't care.

Under the shower's spray, I let the water run over my closed eyes, down my cheeks, down my chest, over my bruises and scars. In the water, if I cried, no one could tell. Not even me.

I lied in bed, thinking about Edward. I tried not to think about the things he said, to me or to Alice. I tried to just remember the little in-between moments that I had seen of him, the ones when he wasn't angry at me. Sometimes, as James pulled out of the school parking lot, we would catch Edward as he was walking out of the school, slipping his leather jacket up his arms and onto his shoulders. The corners of his eyes would be crinkled in a smile, half of his mouth curled up in a smirk.

I replayed those little images in my head until the medication kicked in, and then I thought of nothing.

* * *

I had to hit the snooze button four times before I could muster the strength to get out of bed. My limbs were heavy and tingly, still filled with the remnants of last nights medicine. I stepped into a mostly clean pair of jeans and a gray blouse. I dragged a brush through my hair until it was mostly straight. I took another one of Charlie's pills and stumbled downstairs to grab a package of strawberry pop-tarts. My phone buzzed.

_(1) New Message_

_6/20/2014 7:44_

_From: James_

_To: Bella_

_Outside. Hurry up._

I tugged my sneakers on and took my breakfast with me out the door. James's truck was in the driveway. He leaned across the seat to open the passenger side door for me to get in.

"Thanks," I said, trying to be as sincere as possible.

"Good morning to you too. Did you do the homework for lit? I had a busy night."

My heart dropped. "I didn't even remember we had homework."

"Fuck, Bella. You're a mess. You're going to end up failing, and if you think that I'm going to help you out, you're in for a big fucking surprise." He looked sideways at the sound of the crinkling wrapper from my breakfast. "How many calories are in those?"

"I don't know," I mumbled, taking a bite. It was so sweet it made my mouth ache. He reached out and took the other pop-tart, taking his own large bite.

"Shouldn't you be on a diet or something? Other girls are always on diets. I'm doing this for your own good, Bells. Watching out for you," he said through a mouthful of strawberry crumbs. I didn't reply.

We made it to school with time minutes spare. As I slipped my bag over my shoulder, I saw Rose and Alice parked a few cars down. They waved to me. Alice looked cheerful again, not sad the way I had left her last time. I smiled and waved back.

James wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight against his lean body. He smelled like laundry detergent, and when he kissed me, he was all teeth, tongue, and strawberry sweetness. "You owe me," he said against my lips.

I nodded. "I know."

I went to walk away but his hand stopped me, his long fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist. He tugged me back towards him, and took my other pop-tart. In the distance, the bell rang signalling that students had five more minutes to get to class. A backwards glance showed Alice and Rosalie lingering by the front doors of the school, their foreheads puckered. Alice lifted her arm, motioning me over, mouthing something I couldn't make out. I waved her on. She shrugged and turned away. Rose stood for a moment longer, watching me. Finally, she disappeared too.

"We're going to be late," I said to James. He smiled, wiping crumbs away from the corners of his mouth. His eyes were a blue as light as the skies in Phoenix. His blond hair was getting long enough to brush his ears, and blond scruff was visible on his cheeks and chin. When he kissed me, I could feel it, rough against my skin.

"You owe me. I'm collecting my debt now." He leaned back against his truck.

"What do you want?" I asked slowly.

His hand slid down to rub the fabric of his jeans, palm over his crotch. "It's been a long time."

My face burned. "I'm not having sex with you in the school parking lot."

He unfastened his belt. "I'm not asking you to. Get on your knees, Bells."

I turned to look around. The lot was deserted. In the distance, the final bell rang signalling that class had began. James heaved a sigh.

"Look, you said that you owed me one. This is it. Do you want to be friends with those two stuck up bitches?"

"They are not stuck up bitches," I said through clenched teeth. "And yes I want to be their friend."

His hand snatched up my wrist again, squeezing tight until I winced. "You're so mouthy lately. _Get on your knees and put that mouth to good use._"

I took one last look around the parking lot before dropping down. My knees crunched in the gravel. I unfastened the button on his jeans. Beneath, he was already semi-hard. I curled my hand around him, pumping slowly, before putting my mouth around him. Immediately his fingers were in my hair, holding close to my scalp, controlling me. I hollowed my lips, tucked my tongue over my teeth, and let him do the work. He hit the back of my throat and I panicked, hands coming up to grab at the waist of his jeans.

"Relax, bitch. This isn't your first time. _Relax_."

I took a slow breath through my nose and did my best to follow his directions. He was whispering more things down towards me, more directions. I blocked him out, ignoring the sting of tears in my eyes. _I will not cry. I will not cry. I will _not_ cry._

There was no warning before he was coming down the back of my throat, telling me to swallow. I did so mechanically, ignoring the taste and texture. Like he said, this wasn't my first time.

Behind us, a throat cleared. I scrambled off my knees, stumbling against the door of James's truck while he pulled his pants up.

It was Edward, his hands deep in the pockets of his faded jeans. He was standing there, watching us like he had no where else in the world he had to be. His face was twisted in disgust. At the sight of him, the tears that had been threatening to fall slipped down my cheeks, hot and shameful. I wiped them away angrily, turning so he wouldn't see.

"Enjoy the show, Cullen?" James laughed.

He snorted. "Not particularly."

Edward turned towards to school and resumed walking.

"Wait-" I called out, wiping my hand across the back of my mouth. He didn't even slow down. I don't know what I would have said, even if he had. Was there any way to explain myself? Any way that wouldn't make me seem like the trash that he suspected that I was? As I felt James's hand slip around my waist, I knew the answer.

I _was_ trash.

* * *

For the rest of the day, what happened in the parking lot loomed over my head the way the taste of James stuck to the back of my throat. I stopped at the water fountains in the hallway to get a drink as often as I could, but it didn't help, and it didn't make me feel any less dirty. By lunch, I was sickly nauseous, and when I saw Alice wave me over to her table with Rose, I thought about turning around and walking out. Walking out of the school, out of the town, out of this place for good.

But there was no way I had gone through blowing James in the parking lot for nothing. I forced a smile and sat down next to Rose, hoping what I'd done wasn't visible on my face.

"Hey, what happened this morning? You were headed over and then you just changed your mind. Were you late to class?"

"Yeah," I said, coughing to clear the knot in my throat. "Yeah, James wanted to talk to me. I was late but it's early in the semester, so the dean went easy on me."

"That's good. I was worried about you," Alice said, her lips turned down. "I had a bad feeling."

My heart clenched. How long had it been since someone told me that they were _worried_ about me?

Rosalie rolled her eyes next to me. "You and your _feelings_."

"I've got a sixth sense!" Alice swore, taking a bite out of her apple. The pizza on her tray went untouched. "Just because you refuse to accept it doesn't make it any less true."

She stopped chewing, her face growing serious, staring at something beyond my shoulder. When I turned, I was staring at Edward Cullen's stomach. I slowly trailed my eyes up, afraid to see his expression. My fear was justified; his eyes were narrowed, lips twisted into a sneer. He leaned down to my ear and whispered, close enough for me to feel his breath on my neck, for goosebumps to rise all over my body. I could feel his heat, seeping through my shirt, seeping into my skin.

"You are disgusting. Stay the fuck away from Alice."

Rosalie's arm shot out to punch him in the side, hard enough for him to stumble. "Ever heard of personal space Edward? What's the fucking deal with you? Got a hard-on for Bella or something?"

He made a disgusted noise, rolling his eyes. "I wouldn't touch Swan if someone paid me." My face burned, but instead of turning away, I reached out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. I pulled him close enough that I could smell him: cologne, cigarettes, peppermint. Despite his words, he didn't flinch away from me. We stood inches apart. I was breathing so hard that the rest of the room blurred until all I could see were his narrowed, green eyes.

"I'm not trying to taint Alice. I wouldn't want her to be like-" I stopped before I could finish the sentence honestly, before I could say that I didn't want her to be like _me_.

"Then stay away. You heard me."

"Please," I whispered. "She's the only friend I've got."

He pulled away, wiping a hand at where I had grabbed him. "Not my problem."


	3. Harbinger

**Thank you for the kind reviews. **

* * *

Harbinger (n) : anything that foreshadows a future event.

* * *

I walked out. I stopped by my locker to grab my backpack and cell phone. It took me three tries to get my own combination right. I thought about messaging James to let him know that I was leaving, but I decided that I didn't care. I didn't care if he wouldn't know where I was. I didn't care if he got angry at me, if he tried to take Rose and Alice away from me again. I thought of Edward walking away from me in the cafeteria, the way he didn't even stop to give me another glance. It felt like James and Edward were conspiring together to make sure I was alone.

Alice caught up to me by the front doors of the school. She grabbed my tender wrist. I winced and pulled it away from her, cradling it against my stomach. There were gentle blue bruises, barely visible, from where James had been rough with me this morning.

"Where are you going?" She asked, her eyes wide.

"Go back to lunch, Alice."

"Not until you tell me where you're going!"

"Home."

"But it's the middle of the day."

I stared at her. "I don't give a shit."

She winced at my language. "I know, I know. Stupid thing for me to say."

I softened. "No, it wasn't stupid. I just _really_ need to leave."

I pushed the doors open and went down the steps as quickly as I could. It had started to drizzle, the cool mist reminded me how feverish I felt. I pressed my palms against my cheeks and sucked in deep, cool breaths. The further I made it away from the school, the better I felt.

Until I heard her steps, pounding against the wet pavement to catch up to me.

"You're really stubborn," I muttered to her.

"Yeah, well, you're starting to rub off on me."

I groaned. "That's exactly the problem."

"What do you mean? Here, put this on, it's freezing." She handed me a jacket, white, that felt silky to the touch. I put it on without fighting her, sank into its warmth. It smelled like Rosalie.

"Rose caught up to me in the hall. She said she'll come up with something to tell Mrs. Cope to get us out of trouble." Alice was pulling on her own jacket. Her tiny hand wrapped around mine, fingers warm. I squeezed her hand gently, reveling at the human contact. James never held my hand. When was the last time someone had touched me kindly, just to touch me?

"I'm so sorry about Edward, Bella. He gets it in his head that he's being this-this _protector_, some kind of knight in shining armor or something. I think he still sees me as a little kid. You know?"

"Not really. I'm an only child." She frowned.

"What did he say to you? More of that 'staying away from Alice' bullshit?"

"It's not bullshit," I said, sighing. "He's right. We shouldn't be friends."

"If you don't want to be friends with me, that's all you have to say," Alice said. She pulled her hand away, tucking it into the pocket on her jacket. My hand immediately missed her warmth. I tucked it away in the pockets on my jeans.

"I want to be your friend. That's not the problem."

"Then what _is_ the problem? Friendship isn't that hard. Why are you making it so difficult?"

"Alice," I hesitated. "I'm not a very good person."

"Sure you are. You've always been nice to me. I know my bubbly, effervescent personality might make this hard to believe, but when I moved here last year, I didn't have a lot of friends," she tried to smile while she spoke, tried to make a joke of things, but I wasn't smiling. "Not a lot of people wanted to be friends with a 'orphan dyke'. I'm quoting Jessica word for word, in case you were wondering. I wrote it down so I'd never forget it."

"Jessica's full of shit," I said harshly. Alice gave a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"I didn't used to think so. I didn't have a lot of friends in Seattle, either. Not like Edward. No matter where he went, people seemed to love him. He always made friends with guys on the baseball team, always had girls following after him. It was always harder with me. I guess I've always been a little strange. Great fashion sense, but strange."

"I didn't have a lot of friends in Phoenix either."

She nodded. "I understand. All the things that people said about me, Rose saw right through them. When you came to Forks, you saw through them too. That's what makes somebody a good person."

"Alice, any decent person would have given you a chance, but that doesn't mean that I'm _good_."

"What makes you _bad_?" Against my will, a slideshow of terrible things I'd done started inside my mind, images that made me sick to my stomach. James's hand grabbing my hair, thrusting into my mouth. The end of the year party James had taken me to, right after we started dating, all the filthy things that had happened there. Renee's face when Child Protective Services came knocking at our door in Arizona.

"I let people take advantage of me," I said, trying to swallow the knot in my throat. "I let them do bad things to me, because I'm scared to be alone again. I do bad things, too, just to fit in. The way that I live, the way that I _have_ to live, it's different than the way you live. Edward knows that. He's just looking out for you. He doesn't want you to end up like me."

"I don't care about those things," she said fiercely. "I mean, I do care. I don't want people to take advantage of you, or to do bad things to you. But just because we live different lives, that doesn't mean that we can't be friends."

A car slowed down next to us. We stopped walking. The familiar red and blue lights soothed me. I expected Charlie to get out of the cruiser, but it was a strange man I'd never seen before.

"Isabella?" He asked. He took off sunglasses even though there was no need to be wearing them in Forks in the first place.

"That's me. Bella."

His face broke into a smile. "I'm glad a recognized you from the picture Charlie keeps in his cruiser. You've gotten a little older, but the hair is the same. I'm John Crowley, I'm your dad's partner. How's he feeling?"

"Um," I paused, trying to think of what Officer Crowley could be talking about. "Better?"

"That's good. I told him when he called in that Tyler and Beth had the same thing a few weeks ago, but that they seemed to get over it fast. Shouldn't you girls be in school?"

There was a moment of tense silence.

"Bella was just headed home to check on her dad. He called the school, said something about a doctor's appointment and that he didn't want to go alone. Right Bells?"

They both turned to stare at me, waiting for my reaction. I tried to keep my face from flushing and giving us away. Instead, I just nodded.

"That's sweet of you, Bella. What about you? Aren't you Carlisle's daughter?"

Alice beemed. "That I am. I got permission to walk Bella home. She said she wasn't feeling all that well, herself. I didn't want her to get sick on her way home."

Officer Crowley seemed satisfied. He offered to give us a ride to my house in the cruiser, so Alice and I both took the backseat. I stared at her, a huge grin on my face, more than just a little stunned.

"Where did you come up with all that?" I whispered to her as the cruiser pulled back out onto the road. She shrugged and winked.

"Edward taught me, when we were kids. It just comes naturally."

In the car, it only took another five minutes for us to reach my house. Charlie's cruiser was parked in the drive. I couldn't even remember bothering to glance at it this morning on my way out. Had I even stopped by his room to make sure he was okay? Had I said goodbye, or that I loved him? For some reason, the morning seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Thank you, Officer Crowley," I said as I stepped out back into the rain.

"It's no problem, Bella. I know that you and your father have been having a rough time lately." We both stood awkwardly for a moment, neither of us really sure what to say. "Do you mind if I talk with you for a minute? It's serious," he said.

I turned to Alice. "The spare key is under the mat. I'll be inside in a minute." She bounded up the driveway and into the house, out of the rain. I opened the passenger door and got back inside the cruiser where Officer Crowley was sitting, looking uncomfortable. There was static from the radio. He pressed a button and said something back in code that I couldn't understand.

"Bella, it's about Charlie. This...well, this isn't the first time this month he's called in. We all know that he's having a rough time after what happened with Renee, but there's only so many excuses we can make for him. If he doesn't get himself together, I'm worried that he'll be let go." He stopped to stare at me. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Charlie's going to lose his job." My hands wrung together in my lap, but my voice didn't shake, and for that I was grateful.

"Well, I wouldn't say it with that much certainty, but things don't look good right now. He can't miss another day of work, stomach flu or not."

I nodded my head. "He won't miss another day."

He breathed out a sigh, one it seemed like he had been holding in. "Thanks Bella. Charlie's a great guy. I'd hate to see that happen to him."

I got out of the cruiser and tried not to slam the door behind me. It had started to rain harder outside, so I jogged up the drive and into the house.

Alice was standing in the kitchen. She had taken off her jacket and draped it on the chair at the table. She was staring at the mountain of dirty dishes, at the overflowing trashcan and the full trash bags that were sitting, waiting to be taken out. I couldn't find enough strength in me to be embarrassed.

"I've never been in your house before. Do you know that?" She asked me. She didn't wait for an answer. "You moved here in April, and this is the first time I've ever been inside your house."

I held up my arms and motioned to everything around me. "Don't you see why?"

She looked at me, her eyes narrowed. "It's a mess, Bella. Do you think that changes anything? Do you think having a messy house makes you a bad person?"

"No," I sighed. "I'm going to go back to bed Alice. You should go back to school. I need to take care of Charlie."

I took off Rose's jacket and sat it on the table. I didn't look back as I walked up the stairs. I stopped by the room my parents used to sleep in. The door was closed, so I opened it as carefully as possible. Charlie was slumped in bed, fully dressed in his uniform. I floated over to him, trying to be as quiet as a ghost. Once I was sure he was still breathing, I took his shoes off. His gun was on the nightstand, next to some empty cans of beer and half-full bottles of alcohol. Whiskey. Vodka.

He groaned, his eyes cracking open.

"Renee?" He croaked, reaching one hand out for me. I didn't reach back.

"Go back to sleep," I told him. He groaned again and rolled away from me. I pulled the quilt over him, picked up as much of the alcohol as I could carry safely, and went back downstairs. By the time I got there, Alice was gone.

All of the alcohol went down the drain. I did the dishes, took out the trash, and scrubbed every surface with cleaner that smelled like lemons. I cleaned out the refrigerator of the things that had expired and started a load of laundry. The time rolled around for school to let out, and when it did, I received a handful of calls and texts. Most of them were from James. The rest were from Alice and Rose, wondering if I was okay. I turned my phone off and kept cleaning, walking through the house to pick up all the trash that had accumulated. By the time Charlie was awake, it was dark. He stumbled down the stairs to find dinner on the table and his pills lined up in a row.

"Hey, Bells," he said, gruffly. "The house looks great. Is that spaghetti?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

We sat down together and ate in silence for a while. It was mostly me picking through my food and watching Charlie. He cleared his plate, for the first time in weeks.

"How are you feeling?" I asked him.

"Fine," he said, standing up to look through the refrigerator. "What happened to my beer?"

"Gone. You can't drink when you take your meds. I talked to John Crowley today." He froze, back stiff.

"Oh yeah?" He said without looking at me. "What did he want?"

"They're going to fire you."

He turned to look at me, his expression so lost that it was painful. "_What?_"

"You've been calling in. Skipping work."

"That's not true, Bells."

"Don't lie to me, please." I stopped to wipe at my eyes. "You can't lose your job. I know things are bad since I had to come up here. I'm a burden. I take more money than you had probably figured."

"You're not a burden," he mumbled.

"You cannot lose your job. Tomorrow you are going to get up for work. You are going to shower, and shave, and smell nice. You'll go to work, work hard, and things will get better," I said. "Okay?"

"Things will get better." He asked, his voice quiet and broken. "Will they really?"

"Yes," I said, even though I wasn't sure. "Things will be great."

He came back to the table and picked up his pills, putting them in his mouth one at a time, dry swallowing.

* * *

By the time I watched Charlie go to bed, it was very late. I turned my phone back on and had almost a dozen angry messages from James. I messaged Alice and Rosalie first and told them that I was okay, that I was feeling better, that I would be at school tomorrow.

When I finally mustered up the guts to call James, it went straight to voicemail. I told him as much of the truth as I could. I'd gotten sick halfway through the day. I'd walked home. I'd had to take care of my dad, and I'd been too busy to message or call. I thought about promising to make it up to him, but decided against it.

Finally, I lied in bed listening to the rain on the roof. For the first time in a long time, I was alone. My phone was quiet. There was nothing I needed to be doing, no mores lies I needed to be forging. For the first time in a long time, I was okay with that.

I turned the lights out and fell asleep.

* * *

That night, I dream of fucking Edward Cullen. I'm on top of him, his hands on my hips, helping me ride him. One of my hands slides down between my legs, rubbing my clit, listening to the sounds of him enjoying my body. I can feel him sliding in and out of me, slick with my desire for him. A hand comes off my hip and reaches down to brush my own away and he takes over, slow and steady pressure right where I want him most. He's whispering dirty things to me, kind things, about how beautiful I am, how crazy I drive him, how wet and tight I am around him. When I come, my hand replaces his on my clit so he can pull me down onto him harder, so I can feel every inch of him when he shakes and comes inside of me too. I collapse on his chest, hot and slick, and he presses kisses to the crown of my head.

James's hands come down on my hips from behind me, lifting me off of Edward, pushing me towards someone else, another one who is waiting to fuck me.

Then, it isn't a dream anymore, it's a nightmare and a memory.


	4. Ephemeral

_Ephemeral_ (adj.): lasting a very short time; short lived.

* * *

It's amazing what a hot shower can do. They were therapeutic to me; better than those four sessions with a therapist that I had last spring, better than dad's meds. I liked to stand there under the steaming spray. After a while, my skin couldn't get any cleaner, but I wasn't finished yet. I thought that maybe if I stayed under the spray long enough, I could wash away all the things I'd done, all the people I'd done. I could wash away all the dirt and come out a new Bella.

I wanted to be a new Bella, so badly.

By the time I turned off the spray I was pruny, my skin soft and wrinkly with heat. I stood, my hair dripping onto the tiles, and wiped away the steam on the mirror to look at myself. The bruises on my hips were more faded than they were yesterday. Some of them were almost gone. I went looking for one that hurt, but couldn't find any, except for the fingermarks on my wrist. Looking past the bruises, my body wasn't that bad. I had a flat stomach, a tiny waist. My hips were a little wide, something that James never cared for. I couldn't tell if all of these things came together to make me beautiful, but I figured that at least I wasn't hopeless.

Once I had dressed, I went downstairs to make breakfast. This morning, I was cooking for two. Charlie didn't have to be at the station until after I was gone for school, but I could at least make sure he was awake, dressed, and fed. When the food was ready, I bounded up the stairs, gave the door to Charlie's bedroom a tentative knock, and went in.

It was empty. The bed had been made, the television was off.

The bathroom door opened and Charlie came out, steam billowing out behind him. He had shaved, a few whiskery hairs lingering on his neck. His hair was combed, still wet from his shower. He had some wrinkles in his uniform, but I figured there was only so much help I could give a man who had lived as a bachelor for over a decade.

"Well?" He asked, giving a turn. "Does your old man look good or what?"

I smiled so big that my face hurt. "Looks great."

"You look nice too, Bells. Your hair is all-" he waved a vague hand, the proper word eluding him. "-_straight_."

"Yeah, well, I did _straighten_ it."

He coughed, uncomfortable, before slipping past me and down the stairs. "Breakfast smells great."

We ate in companionable silence. I held my phone, waiting for James's text. The time moved closer and closer to the final bell before I realized that he wasn't coming. Was ignoring me supposed to be some sort of punishment? It might have been on any other day, but this morning, I was feeling invincible.

I asked Charlie for a ride to school and managed to make it before first bell, when the parking lot was still crowded with students. I stood on my toes to see over everyone's heads, looking for Rosalie's golden hair. Seeing Alice's tiny figure would have been impossible. All the while, I kept my eyes peeled for James. I could see his car, but his slim figure was nowhere to found. I knew avoiding James was like putting off the inevitable, but today was going to be different. I was going to be happy, and no one was going to change that.

Not even Edward Cullen, who had his arm thrown over Alice's petite shoulders. He had forgone the leather jacket today to reveal a dark, skin-tight shirt underneath. His jeans sat low on his hips, low enough to be sinful. He was smoking a cigarette, blatantly ignoring the "No smoking on school property" signs posted on the front doors. The sight of him made my stomach turn with nerves, but I put on a smile. If Edward thought that taking my only friends from me was going to be that easy, he had another thing coming.

"Bella!" Rose shouted, attracting attention from most of the people around us. My face colored, but I wrapped my arms around her in a hug. Her lips hovered above the shell of my ear, and she whispered:

"He's a little bitch, ignore him."

"That's the plan," I whispered back into her soft hair. She squeezed tight before letting me go. Her eyes raked over my face, up and down my body.

"Bells, you look fantastic. Is that _eyeliner_?"

Alice's tiny hands grabbed my shoulders and turned me towards her. She had shrugged off Edward's arm, and he stood behind her, scowling darkly. His expression only made my smile grow.

"It_ is_ eyeliner, and she's wearing perfume too. And look at this color coordination! Rose, she's been listening all this time and we never knew!"

"I'm not _that_ bad."

Alice's face grew serious. "I'm sorry that I have to be the one to break the news to you, but yes. You were _that bad._"

Edward muttered something under his breath, rolling his eyes and tapping the ash of his cigarette onto the gravel.

"Hello to you too, Edward," I forced cheerfully. His scowl deepened, his eyebrows drawn low over his stormy eyes.

"Can't you take a hint?" He asked.

"Can't _you?_" Alice said, looping her arm through mine. There was a moment of tense silence between the two siblings, both of their eyes narrowed.

"Edward!" A feminine voice called out. We all turned to see Tanya Denali crossing the parking lot, her hand waving enthusiastically at Edward. It was my turn to scowl.

Tanya and Edward had been dating since before I arrived in Forks. Alice told me that she had lived in Alaska for most of her life but moved down to Forks for her dad's work. She was tall and curvaceous, her hair a mass of reddish-golden, loose waves. Her face held a symmetry that was to be envied, her lips well defined, her eyes wide and blue. She was the kind of drop-dead beautiful that I could never dream of being. I remembered standing in front of the mirror earlier that morning, looking at my soft hips and fading bruises.

We may as well have been from different planets.

She planted a kiss on Edward's cheek. He turned and they connected lips, the soft peck of two people who know each other's lips well. Tanya turned to the rest of us.

"Hi Rose, Alice. Bella, you look awesome," she said, beaming her straight, white teeth at me. "Where did you get those tights?"

I looked down at the simple dark tights I had pulled on underneath my bright, floral skirt. "Um, Wal-mart?"

Edward snorted but Tanya didn't seem to hear. Her face was very serious, eyes narrowed in concentration at my legs. "I'm going to have to make a special trip," she murmured.

Did I forget to mention that Tanya is one of the kindest people I've ever had the misfortune of meeting? She had never said one cruel word to me, went out to lunch with Esme and Alice a few times every month, and volunteered at a nursing home in Port Angeles. In other words, her and Edward were total opposites. The only thing I could see that they had in common was that they were both some of the most beautiful people I had ever met, and they were both at the top of their classes.

She was beautiful, kind, and smart, the kind of girl every female dreamed of being.

Her kindness made it hard to hate her for dating Edward. He whispered into her ear and she beamed, one arm slipping around his waist. _Hard, but not impossible._

The bell rang, cutting off any further conversation. I made it to my locker with most of my good mood and self-esteem intact.

But if there was one thing James was good at, it was ruining any happiness I had. If I had known the things that were going to happen that day, I probably would have stayed in bed.

* * *

I stared at James blankly.

"I'm sorry, _what_?"

"I'm breaking up with you. We're through," he said. He had stopped by my locker in between classes, when we should both be headed to literature. He was leaning against the locker next to me, looking down the hallway as if waiting for someone else. His words were muted by the blood rushing through my ears, pounding in my temples, making my fingers tremble.

I tried to break things off with James over a month ago, on one of Charlie's good days, when I had awoken feeling almost as good as I did this morning. It was during the summer, when he had come over to watch movies while Charlie was at work. Most of the time, we never really watched movies. Most of the time, we had sex instead. The expression on his face after I had told him I thought we would both be better off seeing other people was burned into the back of my brain. There had been a quiet amusement in his eyes, the way a mother might look at a daughter stumbling around in her heels. By the time he left, I had the imprint of his hands bruised on my thighs and wrists. I could still remember the way he crushed my hands together, holding them over my head as he thrust inside me. _"You are my girl. _My_ girl."_

I was still staring at him, trying to put meaning with the words he had said.

"Why?" I sputtered.

He sighed, giving me a lazy look. "Bells, you were a lousy girlfriend and a lousy lay. Don't pretend like you haven't seen this coming for a while now."

"_You're_ breaking up with _me_."

"That's what I said."

My arms began to ache from holding my books. I put them back into my locker and folded my arms over my chest so he couldn't tell that they were shaking.

"That is so backwards, James. Backwards and _you know it._"

He leaned close enough for me to smell his aftershave, his eyes narrowed into angry slits. When he spoke, I could feel his breath against my face. "All I have ever done is try to look out for you. Who drove you to your therapy sessions in Port Angeles?"

"You drove me to _one_ session."

"You didn't even say _thanks_. I was there for you through all the shit you went through, with your druggie mother and pussy of a father."

I could feel the blood slipping from my face. For a moment it felt like my entire body paused. My heart skipped a beat and it felt as if I had electricity in my veins. I reached out and closed the door to my locker, harder than I had thought. The noise in the hallway grew quiet as some students stopped to turn and look at us, but at the time, I didn't see them. I didn't even notice. My entire world revolved around James and what had just slipped from his mouth.

"What did you just say to me?" I could barely recognize my voice.

James didn't seem to notice any change in me. "You fucking heard me, do you really need me to say it louder?"

"Go ahead. Go ahead and _try_."

"Fine then," he said. His voice picked up volume. "I said that _your mother_-"

My fist connected with his lip, cracked against his teeth. My knuckles burned. He fell back, clutching at his mouth. Both our hands came away bloody, but I couldn't tell which of us was bleeding. I threw another punch, but he ducked, knocked my fist away and went scrabbling for my wrists to restrain me.

"_Fight!_" Someone screamed. Around us there was a flurry of activity, but it seemed that there was an invisible perimeter around us that no one dared to cross. James squeezed my arms tight, fingers overlapping across my biceps. I brought my knee up, aiming for his stomach, but got lucky and hit his crotch instead. The breath left him in a whoosh as he dropped to the ground, one hand protecting himself and the other reached out towards me. I kicked at his hand, feeling his fingers clack against the toes of my shoes. He aimed a fist at my knee and I collapsed until we were on the floor together.

I ended up on top of him with my hands wrapped around his throat. His fingers were scratching at mine, our blood mingling until I could tell whose was whose.

Strong arms reached under my armpits, pulling me up and away from James. One of the arms snaked around my stomach, lifting me back and off the ground.

The entire fight lasted less than two minutes.

By the time I was far enough away to have no chance at causing any more bodily harm to James, I realized I was crying. Hot tears had slid down my cheeks and my throat was raw from screaming. I couldn't remember even opening my mouth. Tiny arms wrapped around me and my body recognized Rose's scent before my brain did. I threw my arms around her and sobbed onto her shoulder. And my hero (or should I say _James's_ hero?) was none other than Edward Cullen.

He was staring at me with an expression I couldn't figure out, but at that point, I had more to worry about than Edward's facial expression. Off in the distance, I could hear police sirens, and I had a feeling that I knew where they were headed.

* * *

Forks High had a policy: when a physical fight broke out, the police would be called. I guess there were no exceptions, not even in the case of the police chief's daughter. They forwent the handcuffs, which I was thankful for, and they supplied me with an icepack for my sore knuckles. I took great satisfaction in knowing that James would have much more to deal with than just sore knuckles. But for now, there wasn't much satisfaction to be had, not when Charlie was headed back to the cruiser, his face grave.

He climbed inside, me in the passenger, and heaved a great sigh. "Do you want to tell me what happened in there?"

I shrugged, wiping the condensation from the icepack on my skirt. "Not really."

"It wasn't a question, Bells. That was an order." He started the car and turned out of the parking lot, headed for home.

I almost told him. I really did. For a moment, the things James had said, the words he had called Renee and Charlie sat right on the edge of my tongue. In the end, I swallowed them down. No, I couldn't tell him. If I could help it, I would never hear those words again.

"He said things. Things about you and-" I had to clear my throat before I could finish, "-Renee."

There was silence. "I wish you wouldn't call her that, Bells."

"I can't call her anything else," I said harshly. "Not after Phoenix."

"Then why get angry about anything anyone could say about her? What's the point?"

I couldn't find one. There wasn't a single reason I could find to defend Renee. At least, not one that made any sense. Deep down, I guess I had always been finding reasons for her, making excuses to explain her and the hurtful things she did. Coming to Forks had changed that. Now, I felt defenseless. "He said things about you too."

"You don't need to defend me. That's my job. It's my job to defend _you_," he ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't do such a great job of that when you were gone."

"Phoenix wasn't your fault." I had to look out the window to distract myself from the weight of my words.

"It wasn't your fault either." We pulled into the driveway and he turned the cruiser off. For a moment we sat there, staring at the big house where Charlie and Renee had first lived together after they got married right out of highschool. I tried to imagine it back then, when times were happy, when Renee's stomach was swelling with a baby inside. "He's not pressing charges."

"Of course he isn't," I said under my breath. I had the feeling that if I tried hard enough, I could be pressing charges against _him_.

"But you're suspended. Ten days out of school." He paused. "I take it you and James aren't together anymore."

I snorted. "No, I don't think so."

"Good," he mumbled. We both turned to look at each other, silent. Then smiles broke over both of our faces.

We went into the house and I started heating up the spaghetti from last night, for lunch. Charlie sat down at the table, one hand rubbing at his forehead.

"I saw James before we left. He looked pretty messed up." He looked up at me. "Who taught you how to throw punches like that?"

I just smiled. I couldn't answer a question like that, because the truth was, it had been James.

* * *

Charlie had been given the rest of the day off, but after we talked about it, he went back into work. There was nothing else he could do for me at home, and he couldn't afford to miss even half of the work day. Besides, I was feeling _good_.

I was no longer dating James. I was _single_. There would be no more forced movie days when Charlie was at work, no more brutal sex, no more rules I had to follow. When the bruises on my knuckles and wrists healed, there would be no physical evidence left of him. I was _free_. I floated around the house as if I was on a cloud, dusting and scrubbing anything that I hadn't cleaned the night before. I was so preoccupied that when the doorbell rang and it was Alice standing on the other side, all I could do was stare at her.

Her face was the opposite of how I felt. She looked closed off and nervous.

"Can we talk?"

I opened the door and she came inside. We sat at the table in the kitchen. She looked around, eyes wide. Where there had been garbage and dirty dishes yesterday, there were clean counters and dishes drying.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, sitting down gingerly. Her face was so somber; it wasn't anything like the usual, happy expression that Alice wore.

"That's what I'm supposed to be asking _you_."

There was a moment of silence.

"Well, I'm okay. I mean, I won't be at school for the next ten days, but is that really such a punishment?" I laughed a little but the joke fell flat.

"What happened?"

"James and I had an argument. We're not together anymore."

She looked at me like I was crazy. "Normal arguments don't usually end with police cars and stitches."

James needed _stitches_? That only made my night better.

"It wasn't a normal argument. James said something terrible to me and I just kind of...lost it."

"What did he say?"

I paused, my mouth open. Alice and I had been friends since I moved to Forks in April, but I'd never told her about any of the things that happened in Phoenix between me and Renee, or Renee and Charlie. The only person I had confided in was James, and that had turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes I'd made since the move.

"It was just something about my dad."

"And your mom. Right?"

My face fell and any good mood I'd had left disappeared. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Everyone is talking about it. I guess someone overheard you two arguing. They overheard something about your mom." My heart dropped.

"What did they hear?" I asked carefully.

"Why did you never tell me? Your mom was a drug addict? Is that why you moved to Forks?"

"Oh _fuck_ Alice, don't ask me that-"

"No, I'm asking," she hissed. "I thought we were friends. I thought I was your best friend. You told me that you left Arizona because your mom remarried. How could you lie to me about something like that?"

"I didn't lie, technically-"

Her face looked stricken with sadness and betrayal. Tears had filled her dark eyes, and seeing her cry made me sick to my stomach. "All this time, and you've never really trusted me."

"I _do_ trust you."

"Then tell me why you left Phoenix. Tell me about your mom."

My mouth opened, closed. Opened, but closed again. "I _can't._"

She snorted angrily, hands swiping at her tears like they offended her. "That's what I thought you'd say." She stood up and shrugged on the coat she had shed once we sat down in the kitchen. I tried to stop her at the door but she was already out onto the porch, headed down towards the silver Volvo that was parked in the driveway. I could see the shadow of a figure in the driver's seat.

Edward._ Bastard. _

"Alice don't do this!" I shouted at her.

She disappeared into the car. I didn't even make it to the drive before Edward peeled out, tires squealing, headed away. With him was one of the only friends I had.


	5. Inure

_Inure (v): to accustom to hardship, difficulty, pain, etc._

* * *

I have the same dream, all the time. I'm sitting on mom's kitchen table in Phoenix, listening to her and Phil having sex in the living room. Judging by the sounds, they're almost finished. Then, Phil will come into the kitchen, open the refrigerator, and grab a beer. He'll lean against the counter, open it, and give me the look. The same look he always gives me when Renee isn't in the room, sometimes even when she is in the room. I am not even fifteen years old, but I know that one day, giving me looks isn't going to be enough for Phil.

On the refrigerator there is a picture of me and Renee. It's what I'm looking at. In the dream, the picture always changes. This time, it's a picture someone snapped of us at Halloween time the year I dressed as a ballerina. My hair is piled on my head in a high bun, my tights and leotard pale pink. Renee is standing next to me, and she's convinced me to strike a pose, one where our backs are to each other and we're making sassy faces. In real life, the picture was of us at a mother-daughter banquet held in May at a church we used to attend. My hair is down around my shoulders. Renee has me wrapped in her arms, her head rested on my shoulder, beaming at the camera.

I sat on the table a lot those days, staring at the refrigerator and the picture on it. But I wasn't looking at the picture. I was looking through it, at the phone numbers written on the back. The numbers I had scrawled there a few months ago, that I had also scrawled various places among the house in case I should need them in an emergency.

Phil was in the doorway, and then I was awake.

* * *

In Forks, there's a picture of me and Charlie on the refrigerator. I am so young that I don't even remember the photo being taken, where Charlie has me up sitting on his shoulders, my tiny arms thrown up in the air. I could still remember the first time I saw the picture, after sitting on the flight from Phoenix to Forks, after Charlie picked me up at the airport in his cruiser. I stood in the kitchen, looking around at a home I didn't recognize, holding on to the little bag that contained all of the personal possessions that meant something to me. When I saw the picture, I broke down in tears.

Even looking at it now had me a little teary eyed.

But I could hear Charlie's footsteps on the stairs, so I wiped at the corners of my eyes and forced a smile on my face.

"Mornin'," he mumbled, sitting down at the table where I already had his plate and orange juice. He picked up his fork and looked at me, eyebrows drawn together. "Aren't you eating?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "I'm not that hungry."

"That's what you said yesterday. Have you been taking the vitamins the doctor gave you?"

Lie.

"Yeah. I think maybe I'm coming down with something," I said. Truth was, I hadn't had an appetite since my fight with Alice. I hadn't been sleeping well either. I'd gotten a lot of phone calls and texts from Rose, but I hadn't replied to any of them. I wasn't sure I could take another interrogation, and the odds were that she knew about my mom like the rest of the school. After a day or two, she stopped texting.

I waited for Charlie to be done eating, watched him take his pills, and listened to the sound of his cruiser leaving the driveway. Once he was gone, the house was painfully empty. It reminded me too much of Phoenix, the weeks spent alone wondering where Renee was and when she would be back. If she would be back. Even though I was only suspended from school, I didn't leave the house. I didn't have anywhere to go, and I felt like my self-imposed house arrest was a fitting punishment.

All I had to take care of was breakfast and dinner for Charlie. Easy enough. I could force myself out of bed in the morning, throw a meal together (the years Charlie spent alone eating waffles out of a box in the freezer made anything I cooked for him look like five stars), go back to bed. When the time came for him to get off work, I forced myself out of bed again and spent the time cooking making up lies for 'what I did that day'. _I did homework all day, dad. I read Wuthering Heights again, dad. I caught up on my shows on Netflix, dad. _

Most of the time, I really spent my days staring up at the ceiling in my bedroom, thinking about Alice and Edward. Just thinking of his name made my chest burn with anger. After everything I had ever put up with from James, all the abuse and hate, I was defeated by the people I actually cared about. Christ, wasn't that how it always went?

Charlie's drugs called to me. Sometimes I went into the bathroom and stared at the row of pill bottles. One promised happiness, one promised relaxation, one promised sleep. I would have been willing to give up my soul for any of the three. But Charlie needed those pills. They were for him. They were paramount.

They _were not an option. _

I came downstairs one morning to find that Charlie had gone to work early. Judging by the sticky plate in the sink, the frozen waffles had made a comeback. Posted to the refrigerator was a note.

_Bells, _

_I called last night and got you an appointment with the doctor at noon._

_If you need directions, just call the station. _

No signature. I broke out in sweat despite the AC. I hated doctors. I had never been to see any in Phoenix, and even the myriad of physicians I saw after Phoenix didn't have me accustomed to them. There was something very suspicious about people whose sole job it was to help you. My eyes flickered to the clock; it wasn't even seven thirty. No doubt Charlie had resorted to that lonely box of waffles in the freezer again, anxious to get out of the house before I woke up and found his note. The paper crumpled in my fist and I threw it away in the trash.

I spent the next few hours getting ready. I showered and scrubbed every part of my body that the doctor might need to see. I even shaved, mostly for the doctor's comfort rather than my own. I dried my hair, threw dark paint over my chipped, blue-tinted fingernails, and went scavenging for clothes, but every pair of pants I tried on fit too loosely around my waist.

_How much weight can a person lose in a week? _I wondered, turning to the side to look at myself in the mirror. I managed to find a belt in one of the drawers of my dresser (mostly donated clothes, stuff Charlie had received from CPS before my arrival). The belt was blue with flowers that were a little too happy for my liking. I had to puncture another hole in the leather for it to fit, but once it was on, I didn't think it looked that bad. I pulled a sweatshirt on over my shirt and decided to start walking to the doctor's office. I would get there early, but it was better than sitting around the house.

With Jane Eyre tucked under my arm, I trudged down the steps and out onto the sidewalk. It was raining, but I couldn't care less. The drops felt good on my hot, nervous skin until the water had soaked through my sweatshirt, making me shiver with cold. I tucked my book into the waistband of my pants and hoped to God it would stay dry.

The hospital wasn't far. Forks was small enough that everything important was located within spitting distance of each other. Dad's favorite diner was open next door. When a customer came out, the smell of coffee and french fries came out onto the sidewalk. It made my stomach queasy, but I considered going in and getting a cup of something, anything warm, just to get the feeling back into my fingers. I checked the pockets on my jeans and came up empty.

I continued on until I was ducking inside the doctor's office. When I sat down, the receptionist (who had been eyeing my dripping hair since I came in) came over to me and told me that I needed to check in.

"My appointment isn't until noon," I said to her, trying not to pick at my nail polish.

"We've had some cancellations. We can probably see you sooner than then," she said, giving me a smile. I winced and followed her over to the counter where she took my name and pulled my file, sliding it behind the folders of a few patients waiting in line. The line was too small for my liking. She disappeared and brought me back a towel, small, but better than nothing.

I wiped off my face and proceeded to squeeze the towel around the ends of my hair, combing my fingers through. After a while, I gave up. I had just cracked open Jane Eyre when someone called my name.

"Bella?" Dr. Cullen said. I stared at him, numb with shock, contemplating walking out of the office and home. They wouldn't chase after me. Right? "Bella, I'm ready if you are."

I forced myself out of the chair. I walked out of the waiting room, down a bland hall that smelled of antiseptics, and sat on the high examining table, paper crinkling under my frame. All the while, I stared in mute horror, hating my luck. This was doing absolutely nothing for my medicinal fears.

"How are you doing today, Bella?" Dr. Cullen asked, his voice painfully polite.

"Where's Dr. Gerandy?" I asked, politeness beyond my capabilities.

Dr. Cullen frowned. "Chief Swan called and asked if I personally could see you. It's been months since your last visit with Dr. Gerandy, and I guess with your-", he hesitated, "-friendship with Alice, he figured that you might be a little more comfortable seeing me instead. If you'd like, I could see if Dr. Gerandy-"

"That would be great, thanks," I said, staring down at my hands.

He paused, as if waiting for me to change my mind. "Of course. I'll be back in a moment."

He was gone for what felt like the longest five minutes of my life. I put my face in my hands, pressing my numb fingers against my blushing skin, wishing that a hole would open up and swallow me whole. When the door opened, I looked up desperately hopeful to see the graying, warm face of Dr. Gerandy.

But it was just Dr. Cullen, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry Bella, Dr. Gerandy is on his lunch hour, and the rest of his day is full once he returns. If you'd prefer, the receptionist can always reschedule your appointment for another time."

I thought about it, weighed the pros and cons. In the end, I was too defeated. "No. It's fine Dr. Cullen." I took a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry I was rude."

He closed the door and his face softened. "There's no need to apologize, Bella. Whatever is going on between you and Alice isn't any of my business. We don't have to talk about it, and it certainly won't affect anything that happens during your check-up. Alright?"

I gave him a weak smile. "Okay."

He smiled back. "Okay then. Hop up on the scale for me."

I did everything that he asked. I took off my sweatshirt so that he could listen to my heartbeat, let him look in my ears, at my throat, into my eyes. He examined my fingernails, felt along my spine, took my temperature, and various other tests that I slowly grew accustomed to. By the end, my hair was dryer, the room was pleasantly warm, and for the first time since my suspension, I thought that if Dr. Cullen left the room I may have been able to actually sleep.

Once he was finished, he sat on a stool flipping the pages of my file. He looked up at me, frowning.

"The last time you visited, you weighed 110 pounds. You've lost almost eight. Have you been feeling alright? Any complaints?"

"No," I lied. "At least, none that you can take care of," I tried to joke.

Dr. Cullen's frown deepened. "Try me.

"Have you been talking the dietary supplements that you were started on in Phoenix?"

"No. I ran out."

"And you never bothered to refill them?"

Silence.

"Are you depressed, Bella?"

I shrugged, picking at my nail polish again. Tears filled my eyes but I kept them back.

"Have you been keeping up with your school work? How have you been eating and sleeping? Are you still having the nightmares you mentioned last visit, about Phoenix and the rape?"

I froze. "Rape? What rape? There was no _rape_."

He frowned, looked down at the file. "It says here-"

"No, no, no, you're not listening. There was no _rape_, okay?"

"Bella-"

"There was no rape, so you can just cross out whatever-"

"Bella, you're crying."

"I'm-I-I don't-" He stood and handed me a tissue. I swiped at my cheeks, angry. "There was no rape," I said, weakly.

"It's alright, Bella. Focus on deep breaths. Just keep breathing."

* * *

I leave the doctor's office with a refill of my supplements and an appointment with the psychologist for later on in the week. When I walk home, it isn't raining. The town passed me in a blur, a wet blur of greens and browns. At home, my feet felt like lead as I made my way up the stairs, soaked converse still on my feet. I barely managed to undo the laces and tug them off before pulling the covers over my body and letting my eyes slip closed.

* * *

Thoughts of Bella followed me home from the office. Work followed me home all the time, but nothing to the extent of Bella. I could still see a picture of her in the back of my mind, wet hair, pale skin drawn tight over her bones, her hollow expression. That expression had only changed once, when I brought up something that had been written on her psychological evaluation that she had been given after she first moved to Washington.

I could remember the first time Alice brought her home. The entire town had heard of the return of Chief Swan's prodigal daughter. The circumstances on her move had been sketchy, but I knew Charlie well from all the run-ins he'd had with Edward over the past few years. He'd given me some details, details I'd never shared with anyone, not even my wife. I wasn't surprised to see that word, rape, in her file. But clearly she had been surprised to hear it.

Then, there was the fight between her and Alice. I'd come home to find Esme consoling our heartbroken daughter. Through her sobs, it became clear that Bella had never opened up to her about Phoenix and the things that happened there.

"She's never trusted me, daddy," Alice cried, hiccuping in between breaths. "She told me that she moved here because her mom remarried and kicked her out."

And then there had been the call from Chief Swan.

"_Bella hasn't been eating. She said she thinks that she's coming down with something, but I don't know how much I believe her. She wakes me up sometimes, early in the morning, screaming with these _nightmares_. I don't know what to do, I'm worried that her body is going to give out on her. Will you see her, Carlisle? For Alice?"_

"Carlisle, what is it?" Esme broke me from my thoughts. She had her back to the stove where pasta was boiling and sauce was simmering. Her sweet face was twisted with worry. "You've barely said a word to me all night. What's wrong?"

I sighed, rubbing at my aching temples with my fingertips. In front of me was a pile of paperwork that I should have completed at the office. "You know I'm not supposed to talk about my work."

She leaned across the counter giving me a sad, mischievous smile. "That's never stopped you before. Who was it?"

I threw a glance into the living room where Alice and Edward were on the couch watching a movie on Netflix. Alice had her head tilted down, texting. Neither seemed to be listening to the movie, much less to us.

"Chief Swan made an appointment for Bella today."

Esme's face hardened, a look I've rarely seen upon her usual kind disposition. She turned back to her cooking. "Oh?"

"She's not doing well, Esme. I don't think it will be long before she'll need to be hospitalized."

She turned again, her face softened. "Hospitalized? What's wrong with her?"

"Depression. Malnutrition. A complete lack of care about her physical or mental well-being."

"Goodness, Carlisle. Why?"

I shook my head.

"Who're we talking about?" Alice stood in the doorway.

I traded a look with Esme, who shook her head gently, turning back to the stove.

"We were talking about Bella." Alice's face turned cold.

"Oh." She walked past us and grabbed a can of soda out of the refrigerator. I stopped her on her way back, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and brought her close for a hug. I tried to imagine having a beautiful daughter and mistreating and abusing her the way Bella's mother had. Disgraceful people could become parents while selfless, giving women like Esme could barely conceive. The world had never been a very fair place.

"Take it easy on Bella, she's had a rough life."

Alice pulled away, face blank. "Yeah? Well, _I_ wouldn't know about that."

Esme gave me a sad look, turning off the stove. "Dinner's ready."


End file.
